Survivor Guilt
by Mediancat
Summary: An AU, starting after the end of Chosen. The survivors of the battle against the First, all seven of them, show up at the Hyperion and ask for Angel's help.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is an idea I'd never seen before and I wanted to get it out there. Is it worth continuing?

Disclaimer: The characters of _Buffy _and _Angel _were created by Joss Whedon.

X X X X X

Angel looked around the Hyperion lobby. Some of their files had been packed up, but for a few more days, at least, it was still their headquarters.

The "Fang Gang" hadn't yet completed the transition from the Hyperion to Wolfram & Hart. Some of their things would stay here . . . hidden behind the best spells they could buy. Just because they'd agreed to take over Wolfram & Hart didn't mean they'd gone completely off the deep end.

Angel was packing up some of the weapons when the phone rang.

"Angel Investigations," he said automatically.

"Angel? It's Giles."

"Giles. How'd it go?"

"The Hellmouth is closed," Giles said. "The First Evil's plans have been defeated. And we have someone needing medical attention and a place to recuperate. Could I have directions?"

"Why don't you ask Willow or Faith?"

"Willow is recovering from the effects of a spell she cast," Giles said. "And Faith is . . . unavailable."

"Unavailable?" Angel didn't like the way Giles had said that.

"I'll explain everything when we get there. I promise."

Angel gave him the directions and then Giles hung up.

He flexed a few of his new Wolfram & Hart muscles and hustled over a top-flight medical team and a group of people to clean out some of the rooms. He also got Wesley there as well. Under the circumstances, he guessed they wouldn't be wanting to introduce themselves around to anyone else. Besides, Fred, Gunn, and Lorne were all busy.

An hour later, seven people -- the first wave, Angel guessed -- struggled through the front doors of the hotel. Giles was supporting a tall, shaven-headed black man who seemed to be the person in need of medical attention. He was followed by Xander -- who was half-carrying Willow, Dawn, a short, spiky-haired kid Angel didn't know -- he was carrying the Scythe, that weapon Buffy had used to disembowel Caleb -- and a young woman he didn't know. The medical team came and took the black man, promising to notify Angel and Giles about his condition as soon as possible. When someone else went over towards Willow, Giles held out a hand. "No. She's suffering from exhaustion more than anything else."

Xander went over and laid Willow on one of the couches in the Hyperion Lobby. She said, "What?" before falling back asleep.

Angel kept looking towards the door. When no one else entered, he looked at Giles.

Then he got a closer look at the people who'd walked in. With the exception of Giles and Willow, they all had the blank look of zombies --

Or of people who had just seen something happen, something absolutely horrible. No; something beyond horrible.

"Sit down, everyone, please," Wesley said. Angel looked at Wesley; he'd noticed the same thing. Everyone moved over and took a seat, taking care not to disturb Willow. The spiky-haired boy put the Scythe down on the floor on front of him.

"Where's everyone else?" Angel finally asked.

"There is no everyone else, deadboy," Xander said bitterly. "This is it. The Survivors of Sunnydale. Pretty fucking exclusive club."

"What happened?" Wesley asked.

"We're not entirely certain," Giles said. "Willow was casting a spell through the Scythe to grant all of the potential Slayers Slayer abilities. Spike was wearing that amulet you gave Buffy."

"Spike was a champion," Angel said. "I never would have imagined it."

Giles glared at him. "Let me finish," he said firmly. "Buffy had taken Faith, Spike and the Potentials down beneath the Hellmouth so that they could confront the Turok-Han -- take the battle to them. But something must have gone wrong."

"After a handful of the Turok-Hans broke through, the stairway was blocked by tons of rubble," Xander said. "No one could have gotten out."

"But the Turok-Han eventually could have dug their way out. The only reason we know Spike succeeded -- and that Buffy, Faith, Spike and the Potentials, who, for one brief moment, were not Potentials, but actual Slayers, succeeded in protecting him -- is because where Sunnydale was there is now a large crater."

"I heard that on the news on the way over," Wesley said. "They're calling it an earthquake."

"I expected they would," Giles said.

"Buffy? Faith? Even Spike? They're all dead?" Angel asked in disbelief.

"And Anya. And thirty other people," the spiked-haired young man said. "It should have been me. I wish it had been me."

"We all wish it had been you, Andrew," Dawn said. "So shut up and quit whining." Hurt, the boy retreated to silence.

"So there are no trained Slayers," Wesley said. "For the first time in recorded history."

The young woman Angel didn't know said, "Wrong."

"You --"

"While Willow was performing her spell," Giles said. "This young woman stayed with her so she could get the Scythe to Buffy."

"I couldn't get down there," the woman said, beginning to cry. "I tried and I tried but I couldn't get down there . . ." She broke down and started sobbing. "I wasn't fast enough," she said.

"Wesley, Angel," Giles said. "Meet the one girl in all the world." He practically spat out the phrase. Then, a bit more softly, he said, "Kennedy. The Vampire Slayer."


	2. Chapter 2

I received enough feedback that I'm going to continue this. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the _Buffy _and _Angel_ characters and settings.

X X X X X

"The one girl in all the world?" Wesley said. "I thought --"

"You apparently missed my sarcasm," Giles said." Willow's spell activated every Slayer in the world. But as far as I know the only one with any training at all is Kennedy."

"So there are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of women, who have Slayer strength and abilities and likely have no idea what to do with them?" Wesley asked.

"Yes. And before you ask, at the moment I have no plans to deal with any of it. I have no plans of any sort beyond finding somewhere to sleep. I have managed to get the survivors here, I have gotten Robin Wood the medical attention he needs, and that is the end of my duties."

Angel looked up. "I'm guessing all of you feel the same way?" Everyone nodded. "Okay. I can have people set up rooms for all of you --"

"I'm staying with Willow," Kennedy said.

"So that'll be five rooms. Does anyone want anything to eat or drink?"

"I don't think any of us are hungry right now," Xander said.

"Wait here, then. Wes --"

Angel and Wesley moved over near the check-in desk. "Do you think Wolfram & Hart would have any mechanism for locating Slayers?

"I'm sure we could find a way -- why?"

"Because there is no organized Watcher's council right now, and someone needs to train these girls in what to do," he said. "Or at least let them know that they're not going crazy."

"I'll see what I can do," Wesley said. "And Angel --"

"Yes?"

"Sometimes, you astonish me. You've just been told that Buffy and Faith -- two people who you cared for -- have died, and you're being completely businesslike."

Angel said, "Trust me, Wes. Right now, inside, I'm grieving. To have lost Buffy, twice, in two years, is almost more than I can stand. And that's not counting Faith, or even Spike. But look at them. Giles is the only one keeping them from completely losing it, and he's holding himself together right now by spit and chewing gum. If I break down -- or even go back to being my old brooding self -- it's not going to do any of them any good. I'll let it out later. Right now, I can't afford to."

"You're being strong for them."

'Yes."

"As I said, Angel. Sometimes, you astonish me."

X X X X X

"Where am -- what happened?"

When Willow didn't get an answer, she struggled to sit up and look around.

She was in an unfamiliar hotel room, lit by the dim glow of a single lamp. It appeared to be dark outside.

No; wait; she'd been in a room like this before, when she'd come up to help change Angelus back into Angel. They must've come to Angel Investigations to bask in the glow of their victory and to try to figure out what to do next.

She barely remembered anything from between when she said, "That was nifty," on the floor of the Robin Wood's former office, and when she'd just woken up. Vague memories of being carried by Xander, and Kennedy, but that's about it.

She sat up in in the bed and looked around.

Kennedy was sitting in a chair, gazing blankly out into space. She looked like she'd been crying. "Kennedy?"

The potential -- no, the Slayer -- shook her head, as though she were trying to fight off the effects of sleep, and said, "Hey. You're awake."

Willow smiled. "Your talent for stating the obvious is undimmed. Did the spell work?"

"It worked," she said. "I'm a Slayer." It was said

"How are you feeling?" The question was asked almost automatically.

"Tired. But I've apparently been sleeping for . . ."

"About seven hours," Kennedy said. "We got here a few hours ago." She was speaking almost in a monotone -- the tone of the completely emotionally exhausted. She'd seen it before, when Buffy had --

When Buffy had died . . .

She asked a question she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to. "What happened in the battle?"

"I don't know."

"How could you not know?"

"I never got there. I carried the Scythe down the hall like I was supposed to. I saw a handful of Turok-Han come up -- too far away for me to be able to catch -- and I was just about to go downstairs when there was this huge rumble. It knocked me down. When I got up, I went into the basement and -- and --"

"And what?"

"And the entrance to Hell was blocked. Tons of rubble had fallen. I couldn't get down there."

Oh my God . . . "And they couldn't get out." Buffy. Faith. Spike. Chao-Ahn. Amanda. Rona. Vi. All of them.

All dead.

"No. I tried to dig my way through but I couldn't. And then this bolt of light came and everything began to shake around me -- much worse than the first tremor. And -- and -"

"And what?"

"_And the only thing I could think of was getting you out of there before the place collapsed_!" She began to cry again. "I left them there while Sunnydale became a crater, Will. I left them all there to die."

"There was nothing you could have done --"

"You don't know that," Kennedy said. "And I don't know that. Maybe if I'd just stayed there and dug a little longer --"

"Then you'd be dead too. And so would I."

"That's the only thing keeping me going right now," she said. "That I got you out of there."

Willow had seen Kennedy sensual, angry, self-righteous, funny, tender, and upset. She had never, ever seen her like this. Numb. Depressed. Angry at herself.

Almost like she was sorry she was alive.

"Come on, sweetie," she said as she stood up. "Come over her and come to bed." Willow wasn't tired, not after having slept for the last seven hours, but she wasn't going to let Kennedy be by herself right now. Whatever else had happened, she'd figure that out later.

Kennedy stood up and took a step forward, then said, "Goddammit!", threw the Scythe down, and leapt into the bed.

Willow held her until she fell asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the Buffy and Angel characters. I wish I were him, but I'm not.

X X X X X

Willow waited not only until Kennedy fell asleep, she waited until Kennedy had moved away on her own. The Slayer clung to her for a very long time and Willow wasn't going to pull away before she absolutely had to.

She got up, took care of a little necessary business, and then walked out into the hall. No one was else was visible; of course, this being the middle of the night in an otherwise deserted hotel, she wasn't expecting anyone, up here anyway.

She made her way to the staircase and looked out at the main lobby. She could see Wesley and Angel in earnest conversation.

"Hello down there," she called as she went down the stairs.

"Willow!" Angel said, practically knocking his chair over in an effort to reach her. No matter how much she protested, he walked her down the stairs and over to the front desk.

"I'm not crippled," she said.

"Not physically. Emotionally – did you just get up?"

"No, I've been awake for a couple of hours. But I held Kennedy while she cried herself to sleep – and I'm going to have to get back up there soon. I don't want her to be alone when she wakes up."

"What did she tell you?'

"Enough," Willow said, "To know that Buffy, Spike, Faith, and all of the other Potentials died. She also thinks that Spike was able to close the Hellmouth –"

"He was," Wesley said. "I've had people go down and check it out magically. The evil energy is dispersing. That Hellmouth is out of business for good."

"_That_ Hellmouth?"

"There's another one in Cleveland and at least --"

Willow closed her eyes and interrupted. "How many?"

"Well, I don't have an exact count -- some of them are under the ocean --"

"That's not what she meant, Wes," Angel said gently.

"Oh. Of course. Sorry, Willow."

"Don't worry," Willow said.

Angel said, "Seven."

"Seven. Who?"

"You, Kennedy, Giles, Xander, Dawn, a man named Robin -- who's recovering in the hospital, by the way -- and a boy whose name I didn't get. No one else seemed to like him."

"Andrew," Willow said. "And they shouldn't be blaming him." After a second, "Anya?"

"Apparently died saving Andrew's life," Wesley said.

"Damn," Willow said. "Poor Xander." She took a deep breath. "How did everyone seem?"

"Numb. Drained. Defeated. I completely understand why."

"So do I," Willow said. "Did they tell you what happened?"

"All we know at this point is what Giles told us," Angel said, "Plus what our people picked up when they checked out the crater."

"That's the second time you've said 'our people.' Is that where Fred and Gunn and Cordelia are?"

"No. They're all . . . elsewhere, at the moment. By 'our people' I mean Wolfram & Hart."

"Aren't they the bad guys?" Then, 'You're not Angelus again, are you?"

"Did I murder you all in your sleep?" Angel said.

"Right," Willow said. "Angelus isn't exactly known for subtle. Poetic, but not subtle."

"In any event," Wesley sad, "They claim that they're 'ceding us Los Angeles.' We're taking the resources and seeing what good we can do with them. And yes, we're completely aware that it might be a trap of some sort. But without them we wouldn't know what was going on. We wouldn't --" Wesley broke off, apparently at a nod from Angel. Willow had no idea why.

"I'll buy that," Willow said. "For the moment. Do you have anything to eat?"

"You're hungry? No one else was," Angel said.

"No one else did an extremely powerful spell and slept for seven hours," Willow said. "Whatever you have available."

Angel said, "We'll be right back. Wes, I could use your help."

Wesley looked up at Angel and said, "Right."

When they left, Willow sank her head down on the desk and tried to cry.

But she couldn't.

X X X X X

"Do we even have any food left?" Wesley asked Angel, unsure as to why he was here.

Distractedly, Angel said, "We've been going back and forth, spending time here. We've never bothered cleaning it out." He looked inside and said. "Aha," and pulled out a container of chocolate mint chip ice cream.

"There's something wrong with her," Angel said when they got to the kitchen.

"What, you think the First Evil . . ." No; they'd touched Willow. It couldn't be that.

Angel shook his head. "Not what I mean. I knew Willow fairly well for three years and I've known her well enough since. This is not the way she reacts to an emotional crisis. She overreacts. She does not become numb."

"Maybe something of this magnitude has changed her normal reactions."

"I hope that's it, I really do."

"But you're not certain."

"I couldn't be less certain. Wes, last year when her girlfriend was shot to death in front of her Willow nearly ended the world in her grief and rage. A lot of people she cared about were just killed -- and I'm not even thinking about Buffy, Anya, Spike or Faith. She lived with those girls for months." He took three scoops of ice cream and put them in a bowl, then filled up a glass with water. "What I'm thinking, honestly, is that it's not a question of whether she explodes, but when. And more importantly, how." He went back out to the lobby, and Wesley followed him.

He noted that Willow was sitting at the front desk, with her head down. Good; perhaps she'd been crying and Angel's fears would prove groundless.

Unfortunately, a close examination of her face showed otherwise. Willow hadn't been crying. In fact, she even mustered a half-grin when Angel gave her the ice cream. "Much as I appreciate the attempt at comfort food," she said, "I'm afraid it's going to take a little more than this to do the trick." She did eat, though.

She'd just put down the bowl and spoon when a commotion came from the top of the stairs. "Willow!"

Everyone looked up and saw Kennedy standing there, holding the Scythe. "They won't go away," she said. "I keep seeing them in front of me. They won't go away." She looked down at Willow and started to cry again. "They won't go away . . ."


	4. Chapter 4

Willow, Angel and Wesley all moved towards the Hyperion lobby's grand staircase simultaneously. Angel and Wesley stopped at the stairway's base and let Willow go up. "Who won't go away?" Willow asked.

"The other Slayers," Kennedy said. "I keep seeing them. Rona and Faith and Vi, all of them, just standing there, looking at me."

"Are they saying anything to you?" Angel asked. He had to see if this was something possibly supernatural – never out of the question where powerful evils like the First and powerful weapons like the Scythe were involved – or simply Kennedy's own grief temporarily deranging her.

"They don't have to," she said as Willow came up the stairs. "I know what they're thinking: I abandoned them. I just left them there to die. And they're right."

Willow moved next to Kennedy and put her arm around the girl's shoulders. "Shhh, baby," she said, kissing the top of her head. "It'll be all right."

"Now that you're here," she said. "Don't leave me, Willow." The sobbing started to come to an end.

"I'm sorry I did. I'll come back with you now."

Angel had a thousand questions he needed to ask, but now definitely wasn't the time to be asking them. He watched Willow and Kennedy head back up to their rooms, and then when they were out of sight turned to Wesley. "What do you think?"

"I'll take your word about Willow," Wesley said. "As for Kennedy – are you guessing that her emotional trauma may not be entirely natural?"

"Oh, I'm sure there's plenty natural about it," Angel said. "Of course, I don't exactly have a standard of behavior to compare it to here. I just want to be sure that's all it is. Same with Willow."

"What are you suggesting?" Wesley said, yawning.

"At the moment, I'm suggesting you get some sleep," Angel said. "Sack out in one of the rooms if you don't want to go back to your place. Before you do, though, two things. One, what's the progress of people looking for new Slayers and surviving Watchers?"

"The spell is in place," Wesley said. "It's just waiting for your approval. As for Watchers, I have already managed to contact a half dozen or so who either were away when the Council building was destroyed or were in the field. They will be coming here as soon as we can make the travel arrangements. What few members of the 'Old Guard' survived don't seem to be interested yet, but some of the younger members are eager to see what happens next."

"As of now, that's all you're doing," Angel said. "As soon as you wake up, that is," he said, noticing Wesley yawning again.

"I believe I will take you up on that offer," Wesley said. "One thing before I go. Perhaps we could have Lorne read them?"

"Willow can't sing and I doubt Kennedy's in the mood," Angel said. "Still, it's the best idea I've heard. I'll get in touch with him in the morning. Now go to bed."

X X X X X

Lorne got to the Hyperion early in the morning -- and by early, he meant early for anyone, not just him. The life of a (former) nightclub owner just was not conducive to dawn meetings, but here he was, bright-eyed if not exactly bushy-tailed.

Angel was busy talking about something with a man Lorne had never met before; from the description Angel had given him, Lorne guessed it was Rupert Giles.

"...sorry I did all of these things without consulting you," Angel said. "I just felt that someone had to --"

"And I was clearly in no shape to do so, and neither was anyone else in my party," the man said. "Good call, Angel." The man looked like he'd just been through an emotional wringer; of course, he had, so that explained it. There was no one else in the lobby at the moment; Lorne guessed everyone else was sleeping off what had just happened in Sunnydale.

Of course, they couldn't exactly sleep their way out of their troubles. He'd seen it tried. Doesn't work. You wake up with the same problems you had when you went to bed, only now you also really have to pee.

"I realize the timing is horrible, but I'm going to need you to at least be a figurehead for the moment," Angel said. "I'm running the Los Angeles offices of Wolfram & hart now. No, I'm not evil. But it is going to present some image issues. When Wes got in touch with the other Watchers he told them he was doing so at your direction."

"I suppose you had to," Giles said. "I'm not sure I'm ready to do more than that, however."

"Giles, right now you're the only one who's ready to do much of anything. Robin Wood's still in the hospital, Xander and Dawn have only left their rooms to eat, that Andrew kid hasn't even done that much, and Willow and Kennedy -- Oh. Hey, Lorne. Rupert Giles, this is Lorne -- he's a Pylean and he's one of the good guys. Lorne, Rupert Giles. Watcher."

Lorne walked over and shook the Watcher's hand. "Sorry the circumstances couldn't be better," Lorne said.

"It's hard to imagine at times how they could have been worse," the man said. "And call me Giles."

"We could be fighting that second front war Buffy --" and don't think Lorne didn't notice Angel's eyes cloud up when he said the name -- "said we needed to prepare for. We're not."

"Still," Giles said tiredly, "I think this is pretty much a textbook definition of a Pyrrhic victory."

"I won't argue with you there," Angel said. Lorne recognized this look on Angel; it was the "I'm carrying on because I have to" look. No doubt last night he'd gotten in some serious brooding time. But he obviously didn't want to do it in public.

"Angel," Lorne said. "So, what's the what with these girls you wanted me to read?"

"Read?" Giles said. "Are you a telepath?"

"Not exactly," Lorne said. "I can see people's auras when they sing, and sense their futures. A little telepathy and empathy comes along as a special added bonus attraction, but those aren't exactly my main selling points."

Giles asked Angel, "And why do you want him to read Willow and Kennedy?"

"I'd been wondering that myself, Angelcakes," Lorne said. "Sounds more like they need a good shrink than whatever meager insights I can provide."

"I'm not so sure the reason for their behavior isn't something magical," Angel said. "Giles. You haven't seen Willow since last night, have you?" Giles shook his head. "Well, how does she usually react when something horrible goes wrong."

"Badly," Giles said. "She gets hyperemotional."

"Last night, she was damn near numb," Angel said. "And, I don't know Kennedy, but from what I saw of her last night she's a second away from a total nervous breakdown. She was saying how she could _see_ the other Slayers -- how they were just looking at her accusingly. And she was crying as she said it."

"That's not the Kennedy I know, either," Giles said.

"Well, then," Lorne said, clapping his hands, "How about we get the opening curtain up on this show, then? I've already got my first client coming in today and I want to make sure we're all set to meet her needs." At Angel's and Giles' confused looks, he added. "Jessica Alba."

"Sold her soul for success?" Angel said.

"A long time ago. Well, how else would you explain it?" Lorne asked.

"I wouldn't," Angel said. "I'll go see if they're awake."


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: when I started the fic, I'd forgotten the shape the Hyperion was in when Angel Season 4 ended. For the purposes of the story, assume that Angel hustled in a cleanup crew to make the place habitable again.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ characters. This particular AU is mine.

X X X X X

While Willow held her, she was safe.

None of the dead Slayers came to see her, not even in her dreams, as long as Willow held her.

When she'd woken up during the night and Willow wasn't there – she'd gotten so scared. Yeah, that's right. She. Kennedy. The brat. One of the few people who'd had the guts to stand up against Buffy –

She was scared.

She couldn't be alone right now. She couldn't be.

So she'd grabbed the Scythe to go look for her, and that's when they'd appeared. Like she didn't have any right to be holding the weapon. Buffy. Faith. Rona. Chao-Ahn. Amanda. Vi. Everyone who'd died.

She could see through them, so she knew they weren't really there. And it couldn't have been the First, because the First would have been talking to her, trying to make her feel worse.

Like she could have.

So she'd run to find Willow and they'd followed her, always staring.

And then Willow had taken her back to bed, and as long as Willow was near her, they disappeared.

But now it was the next morning and she couldn't stay in bed forever. She was the Slayer. At the moment, the one and only.

So she couldn't stay in bed forever, snuggled up next to Willow, no matter how much she wanted to.

God! If it wasn't for Willow, she didn't know what she'd do. She'd told Willow it was the only thing keeping her sane at the moment – if sane was the right for word for the way she felt. She'd abandoned her fellow Slayers to save Willow, not herself.

Not that that wasn't just as selfish. She'd saved the woman _she_ loved. She hadn't done it to save the world.

They'd been saving the world. She'd been stuck upstairs.

Willow was curled up next to her, watching her. "Did you stay awake all night?" she asked.

Willow said, "I fell asleep for a few more hours. But I didn't want to leave again until you were ready."

"So is next Tuesday okay?"

"Next Tuesday would be fine, except –"

"Except?"

"Except now that you're up, I really have to pee." Willow gently disengaged herself, and she resisted the urge to clutch her, to stop her from going.

"Are you . . . up to going back out there?" Willow said when she got back.

"As long as you're with me," was her response.

"Of course. As long as you need me."

X X X X X

Angel went upstairs. The boy Andrew stuck his head out of his doorway as he passed -- good, at least this meant he was still alive -- but went back inside just as quickly. Xander actually came out as Angel passed.

"Xander," Angel said.

"Angel."

"How are you feeling?"

Xander looked like he was about to snap out an answer, stopped, and said, "Exactly like you'd expect."

"I'm sorry," Angel said. "I honestly wish I could do more."

Looking up at him, Xander said, "How are you doing it?"

"Doing what?"

"Buffy died. Faith died. Anya died, but I wouldn't expect you to feel sorry about that one. And yet you're --"

"Not acting all broody and miserable?"

"In a nutshell," Xander said.

Angel said, "You know how much I loved both of them."

Shaking his head, Xander said, "That's not the issue."

"You were there," Angel said. "I wasn't. Do I wish I'd stayed with Buffy despite her wishes? Do I think maybe I could have saved her and Faith and everyone else? Only every second since I heard the news that the seven of you were all that survived." After a second, "But here's the thing. I wasn't there. I'm not going to impose my grief on you."

"I actually appreciate that."

"I'm glad to hear that," Angel said. "Come out when you're ready."

Xander said, "I think I'm ready now."

Angel made a show of looking up and down Xander's body. "Right. I think I'm ready as soon as I put on more than a pair of boxer shorts."

Then he shut the door and Angel continued down the hall. Dawn didn't come out when he passed her room. He hoped she did soon.

Knocking on the room shared by Willow and Kennedy, he was rewarded with a "Yes?"

"It's Angel."

A few seconds later Willow opened the door. She still didn't seem like she'd cried at all. Kennedy seemed marginally better, but still seemed reluctant to let Willow be more than five feet away. Shortly after Willow opened the door, Kennedy followed her over.

"What do you need?" Willow asked in a neutral tone.

"I want you both to come downstairs and do something for me," Angel said. "It's no big deal. But -- Willow, you remember Lorne?"

"Oh, sure," she said in the same tone. "But we're not really up for a social call right now."

"It's not a social call," Angel said. "It's business."

"Business?" Kennedy said. "If you need something Slain, I'm ready--"

Angel appreciated that the young woman was even willing to make the offer, but at the moment she didn't seem fit to Slay a poodle. He interrupted her with, "Not that kind of business." He looked at Willow. "Lorne's type of business."

"You know I can't sing," Willow said. "And I'm sure Kennedy's not up for it right now."

"Why would we sing?"

Willow turned to Kennedy, and said, "Lorne's an empathic demon -- one of the good guys, so no Slaying necessary. He can read people's futures and auras, but only if they sing."

"Your lack of singing ability isn't an issue," Angel said. "If Lorne can handle me singing _Mandy_, he can handle anything you have to throw at him. And you don't have to do it in public if that's what you're worried about."

"So why do you want us to sing?" Willow asked.

"Because I'm worried about you," Angel said. "Both of you. And I think Lorne might be able to pinpoint whether I'm worried about something you need to work through yourselves . . . or something that needs to be worked through with the help of the finest spellcasters available."

"I think I'd notice," Willow said.

"I don't think you're at the top of your game," Angel said. "Either of you. Please. What can it hurt?"

Kennedy looked at Willow; obviously she was going to follow the witch's lead here. After a few seconds, Willow said, "Are you up for this?"

"I am if you are," Kennedy said.

Willow turned to Angel. "We'll do it."


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks to the readers and reviewers. Hope the revelation lives up to your expectations . . .

Disclaimer: Joss Whedeon created the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ characters and settings. Not this particular universe, though; that's mine. The song quoted is Shawn Colvin's _I Want It Back_.

X X X X X

Angel waited outside while Willow and Kennedy got dressed. Willow noticed that Kennedy still didn't seem to want to leave her side, not for more than a few seconds. She wished she could do more to help her to be with her. She explained in a bit more detail who Lorne was and what he did, and the only reaction she got was, "If you trust him, I trust him."

Despite what she'd said to Angel, she knew why he was worried. She was worried too -- or she would be, if she could summon up enough energy. Willow knew that her reaction to the tragedy was off.

She knew she should care more about that. But she didn't.

Now, Kennedy she was concerned about. She'd know the woman for seven months now; been sharing a bed with her for almost five, and had never seen her like this. Had never seen her even close to this.

Was it magical?

She didn't think so. But she knew she couldn't determine if it was, right now, so asking Lorne probably wasn't a bad idea. At the moment she didn't think she could muster the magical energy to float a pencil. Oh, she could still feel the magic in her; she just wasn't up for making the effort.

Which again, she knew should have worried her more than it did.

She wished she had more than the single pair of clothes – and wished even more that for Kennedy, who hadn't changed hers since yesterday morning. A fast shower together – involving nothing remotely erotic at all; in Kennedy's current condition that would have effectively been rape. And Willow wasn't much up for it, anyway.

While Kennedy dried off, Willow gave their clothes a quick scrubbing. Then they got dressed and headed downstairs. Kennedy grabbed the Scythe as they left the room, clutching it tightly to herself, as though it represented her only hope of salvation.

Willow was pleased to see both Xander and Dawn in the lobby. Dawn was talking to Lorne – Lorne would have made a hell of a counselor, even without his telepathic abilities – and Xander was sitting on the couch, talking with Giles and Wesley. Angel was on the phone. Andrew was nowhere in sight. She couldn't overhear any of the conversations.

"Ah," Lorne said as she and Kennedy walked down the lobby's main staircase. "I see the stars of our little show are making their grand entrance."

"Hey, Lorne," Willow said, "Good to see you." She went over and hugged Xander and Dawn briefly. Dawn had definitely been crying. Xander seemed to be in somewhat better shape.

"If you can say that when we're done I'll be one profoundly happy demon, believe me." Lorne turned to look at Kennedy. "And you must be Kennedy," he said, more soberly, apparently realizing that Kennedy was in no shape to be jollied along.

"I must be," Kennedy said, moving almost in lockstep with Willow.

"So," Lorne said after it became clear that Kennedy wasn't going to say anything else, "Since Angel over there informs me that you're not all that fond of your singing voice –"

"The cosmos isn't fond of my singing voice," Willow said. "Back when the singing demon invaded Sunnydale I wound up singing maybe four verses. Other people got starring roles. Not that I'm complaining." Angel hung up the phone and walked out from behind the lobby desk.

"You met Sweet?" Lorne said.

"Was that his name? Red skin, deep voice, dresses in colorful tailored suits?"

"The very demon," Lorne confirmed. "He dropped by Caritas from time to time to check out the talent."

"Well, at least now we have a name to place with the face," Willow said.

"And back to the subject at hand," Lorne said, "Would you prefer this solo act to be _sans_ audience?"

Willow shrugged. "Doesn't really matter to me."

"Well then," Lorne said. "Who goes first?"

Willow picked the first song that came into her head, took a deep breath and began:

_I lost the thread, I lost the map  
It's not a feeling, it's a fact  
I had it once, I was on track  
Why won't it stay? I want it back…_

X X X X X

They listened to Willow finish her song.

_I dreamed again of paradise  
I floated steady, it felt so nice  
to sell your soul, just think of that  
I'm halfway there, I want it back _

I want it back

Her voice, as she'd admitted, wasn't the best; but there was something to her singing that hadn't been present in her voice since she'd woken up, Angel noticed: emotion.

"Well?" Willow asked when she was done. The same level of emotion wasn't there in her voice, unfortunately.

"This is more than a one-woman show," Lorne said. "I'm going to need to hear from the better half over there before I can finish my reading."

Angel was confused. He walked up and asked Lorne, "Are you sure?"

"Do I tell you how to spindle, fold, and decapitate?" Lorne asked.

They all looked over at Kennedy. From all Angel could tell, the woman barely seemed up for moving. And if she'd let go of that Scythe since Andrew had dropped it after the survivors had gotten to the hotel yesterday, you couldn't prove it by him.

"Are you up for this?" Willow asked her girlfriend.

"You say it'll help, I'm willing to give it a try." Kennedy said. "Just stay close, okay?"

Willow nodded and leaned against the stairway rail.

When after a minute there was no singing, Lorne said, "She did tell you you need to warble a tune for me to use these skills of mine, right?"

"Right," Kennedy said. "I'm just having trouble thinking of a song."

"Pick anything," Lorne said. "It doesn't have to be something deep and meaningful and you don't have to sing it well. I'm not giving out style points."

"Okay," Kennedy said, and in the same breath began:

_Frère Jacques  
Frère Jacques  
Dormez vous?  
Dormez vous?  
Sonnez les matines  
Sonnez les matines  
Din, din, don  
Din, din, don_

She repeated it twice and Lorne held up a hand. "Thanks, doll. That's plenty." Then he said. "Give me a minute to process."

Angel found this reaction of Lorne's to fall firmly in the "mixed blessing" camp. He wasn't responding like he'd seen a coming apocalypse, but it wasn't the "everything is moonlight and roses" he'd been hoping for, either.

"As I understand it," Lorne said, addressing Angel, "You were worried that their reactions weren't normal, and might even be connected with magic. You," he said, turning to Willow, "worked a major mojo back in Sunnydale, right?"

"Right. Knocked me silly for eight hours."

"The spell didn't cause that reaction," Lorne said. "Or the way Kennedy over there's acting. The guilt is 100 all natural. But there's a magical connection of some sort. The emotions you're feeling or," he looked at Willow again, "_not_ feeling are very real. But they're being – I don't know if enhanced is the right word, but I think that gets the point across – by some magical influence."

Angel walked up to Lorne and said quietly, "Will Willow explode?"

"Not in the way you're afraid of, no," the Pylean said equally as quietly. "Any explosion will be strictly of the emotional variety. I'm not saying there won't be bumps and bruises, but we're not looking at another rerun of Ragnarok, either."

Willow said, "But what could be influencing us? We didn't have time to bring anything . . . magical . . ." She noticed that everyone in the room was looking at Kennedy.

Or, more precisely, at what she was holding.

"No!" Kennedy said, and ran up the stairs. Willow followed her.

"Well," Angel said. "This can't be good."


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: So, yes, I've been listening to Shawn Colvin's _A Few Small Repairs_ recently; why do you ask?

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon is the lord and master of all you survey here. Except the plotline.

_So come on baby, let me show you how  
The more I know, the less I comprehend  
You don't have to drag me down  
I descend_

_-- _Shawn Colvin, _Trouble_

X X X X X

They couldn't take it away.

They couldn't.

It was the only thing she had – the only thing any of them had – the only visible remembrance of _them_, those who'd died.

She'd only let Andrew carry it into the lobby because she was so worried about Willow.

And anyway, she was the Slayer. "The one girl in all the world," at least the only one who'd had the training. She had to be the one to keep this.

Buffy and Faith trusted her to bring it to them, and she'd failed them.

Failed all of them. And now they were all dead.

That's why she could see them, watching her. Even now they were watching her.

"I'm good enough!" she said. "I'm good enough to use this!"

They didn't answer.

They hadn't answered yet.

All they did was stand there. All they ever did was stand there.

"I am!" she said. "I am! Why won't you answer me?"

Willow ran up behind her. "Kennedy. Honey. They don't want –"

"They don't think I'm worthy," she said, whirling around.

"No. It isn't that. They think The Scythe has something to do with why we're acting the way we are."

"We? All you're doing is acting a little numb. You're not the one being haunted by the ghosts of people you've failed."

"Can you see them now?" Willow asked.

"Yes. Can't you?"

Willow looked around for a second, then closed her eyes and did the same thing. "I can feel the magic," she said. "But I don't sense any spectral presences at all."

"Of course you wouldn't," Kennedy said. "You're not the one who failed them. You made them all Slayers. You did your part. I just didn't do mine."

"Superman couldn't have done your job there. You didn't fail."

"Then I'm sure Buffy, Faith, Rona and Vi will be coming around the corner any second to tell me that."

Willow didn't say anything to that, and for a second Kennedy was worried that she'd hurt her. Offended her in some way. "Oh, God," she said, running up to Willow and hugging her. "I'm sorry, Willow. I'm so sorry. Don't leave me. Please don't –

"I'm not going to leave you," Willow said. "I'll never leave you. As long as you need me, I'll be here." Then they kissed, briefly, and pulled out of the hug. "Now, let's go back downstairs."

Kennedy grabbed the Scythe with both hands. "They want –"

"They want to help us," Willow said. "Both of us. Please."

And what her goddess wanted, she got. "For you," Kennedy whispered. "Anything, for you."

X X X X X

Willow noticed that Kennedy was more talkative with her; more everything with her. Just as she noticed that her own emotions came out when the two of them were talking.

She'd been convinced by Lorne. That was what the Pylean did, after all. Read people. And if he said that their emotions were natural but being magically influenced, there was only one thing that could be doing it.

She just couldn't figure out how. The Scythe was a weapon attuned to Slayers; it wasn't a repository for generalized magic energy. And it wasn't haunted.

She'd examined it closely enough when preparing for the Slayer activation spell. It didn't have those properties.

Maybe she'd missed something. That was always possible. She was powerful, but she wasn't all-powerful. Giles and Wesley might be able to figure something out that she hadn't.

But Kennedy – strong, tough, confident Kennedy – was so fragile right now. She needed Willow, and she needed the Scythe.

If Willow had to make a choice – well, it was no choice at all. She'd protect Kennedy and figure it out on her own if she had to. Not that she would hurt anyone else. She couldn't do that. Black magic gal was staying well buried.

She'd protect Kennedy, of course, assuming she could work up the energy. She told Kennedy to stop while she concentrated on floating a random piece of debris. She could tell Angel'd had the hotel cleaned in a screaming hurry before they got there. At some point she'd have to ask what happened – possibly Angel and his people had been fighting off their own apocalypse.

Hmmm. Dueling apocalypses. That would be interesting. Maybe the demons/powers involved could slug it out on their own and just leave humanity to figure its own problems.

Anyway, debris. Hard as she tried she could barely get it a foot off the ground.

Then she imagined someone attacking her.

The debris moved a little further, a little faster.

Then she imagined someone attacking Kennedy.

The debris rocketed off down the hall until it smashed into a door fifty feet away.

Good. She could do this, if she had to.

She just hoped she didn't. She knew that Giles and Angel and everyone only had Kennedy's best interests at heart.

The problem was, Kennedy didn't know that.

X X X X X

They'd made the decision to let Willow talk to Kennedy alone, even though Willow's emotional stability was also in question at the moment. Lorne had had to leave to get to his meeting with Jessica Alba, so they passed the time catching Dawn and Xander up on what was going on.

They were ready to help. Emotionally drained, physically exhausted, they were still ready.

Giles told Angel, "When they come back down here – assuming they do, and should they not, someone will have to go up after them –"

Tiredly, Xander said, "I volunteer."

"Good man," Giles said. "In any event, Angel, it's probably best that you not be within range of the Scythe. Kennedy doesn't see you as an enemy, but in her state –"

"Why?" That's right; Angel had seen the Scythe in action but hadn't been fully apprised of its abilities.

"Because if you're hit by it, you'll die," Dawn said. The bitterness and anguish were still in her voice – Giles suspected they'd be there for a long time – but at least

"Right," Giles added. "It's a powerful enough weapon without that, but it was enchanted so that if it strikes a vampire, even in a place where that vampire wouldn't normally be vulnerable, the vampire is dusted instantaneously."

"Remarkable," Wesley said. "I'd heard rumors, but –"

"So, stand well away and try not to annoy her," Angel said. "Got it."

"So," Giles said. "Any ideas of how we take the Scythe away if she doesn't want to give it to us?"

There was a yelp from the staircase. Everyone turned and looked and saw Willow and Kennedy descending, a look of fright on Kennedy's face.

"You don't," Willow said. "This is on a volunteer basis only."

"Will, really," Xander said as Angel retreated behind the lobby desk.

"Xander, right now it and me are the only things keeping her sane. Now, I've gotten her to come down here and talk about handing it over and the first thing I hear is you trying to figure out how to take it when her back is turned."

"Willow –" Giles said.

"Save it," Willow said wearily. "I know why you want to do this. I think it's a good idea – or as good as I can, under the circumstances."

"So you believe me now?" Angel said.

"Unless Lorne's prone to pathological lying, yes," Willow said. "Kennedy?" she said, turning to her girlfriend and putting her hands on her shoulder. "I promise. If you don't want to give them the Scythe right now, they _won't get it_." Willow sounded almost angry with her last three words. "So. I'm asking you. For me. All they want to do is look at it and figure out what's wrong with both of us. Will you give it to them."

Kennedy opened her mouth, closed it again, and then said one word in answer.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: I had to do the cliffhanger in the previous part. Sorry about that . . .

Disclaimer: 'tain't mine.

X X X X X

"Okay."

The word was one of the hardest Kennedy had ever said. As Giles came over to take the Scythe, she considered changing her mind, running out the door. Willow would come with her; she'd said she would.

And then she could take the Scythe and use it to Slay, like she was meant to do. Willow would back her with her magic. And she could make the ghosts quiet -- prove to them that despite her failure she _could_ be a good Slayer.

But she'd promised Willow. And Willow was everything to her, now. She was what mattered.

So when Giles held out his hand for the Scythe, Kennedy handed it over.

Willow came over and hugged her as soon as she let it go. She needed Willow right then; her presence, her touch.

"Thank you, Kennedy," Giles said.

She couldn't answer. One of the two things giving her life any purpose and she'd just handed it over.

She clung to Willow a bit more tightly.

X X X X X

Giles took the Scythe behind the counter; Wesley and Angel followed him.

"Much as I'd like to have someone more expert than I look at this," Giles said, "I'm not entirely sure I trust your new employees." That was an understatement; why Angel had chosen to take over was something he was having difficulty understanding. Clearly, neither the vampire nor Wesley had suddenly turned evil.

"Do you trust my old ones?" Angel said. "Because you can at least have Wes and Fred's help. I know you're not a witch yourself, Giles, but right now you and Wes here are the closest things to experts we've got who aren't . . . tainted by association, and while Fred's a scientist, not a magic-user, she's one of the smartest people I know."

"Could you have her meet us here?" Giles asked. "And, Wesley, the vast majority of my books were either lost in the collapse or are still in England. Whatever you still have --"

As Wesley nodded, Angel said, "I have some still here, too."

"Also -- and much as it pains me to say this -- we originally tracked down some information on the Scythe via the internet. If you could round up a computer, that would be of tremendous help." Angel moved towards the phone and began making calls. "Wesley, when you come back -- you and I will tackle the sorcerous aspects. I realize that wasn't your forte --"

"No," Wesley said. "And then who will help Fred with the research?" He pointed to the main lobby area, where Willow was still holding Kennedy. "Certainly Willow is in no shape to help."

"Xander," Giles said.

The young man came over. "Yeah?"

"I realize the timing is horrible --"

"The timing's gonna be horrible for anything we do for the next several weeks except for eating and sleeping," Xander said. "What do you need me to do?"

"Um -- research. On the Scythe."

Xander laughed, and thankfully the laugh was not a bitter one. "Nothing ever changes, does it? Sure, I can spare some time for book readin'. I'm guessing we're trying to figure out what's in the Scythe that's got Kennedy and Willow acting so _Mirror, Mirror_?"

Exactly," Wesley said. It surprised Giles that Wesley knew the reference. It surprised Giles that _he_ knew the reference; he'd been much more a _Dr. Who_ man in his youth. "Giles, I'm assuming you know the details of the spell?" Giles nodded; Willow had gone over it with him very carefully beforehand. He wasn't there while it was cast, but Willow's helpfulness appeared to waxing and waning at random intervals, so she wasn't the most reliable source at the moment. "Good. Then we can get to work."

"One more thing," Giles said. "Xander. Do you think Dawn would be able to help us?"

"You mean, is she up for looking things up on a computer 24 hours after her sister died for the fourth time?" Xander asked acidly. "Wait a minute, I'll go check."

Giles held up a hand. "Never mind. I should have realized --"

"Giles, I'm barely up for this right now myself, and I've had years more experience than she has. I'm sure you're having trouble holding yourself together --"

"I am," Giles said.

"Then let's not stress anything further than it needs to be. Even the strongest steel has a breaking point."

"Speaking of which," Giles said. "Has anyone seen Andrew?"

"He hasn't come out since he's been here," Angel said. "He's still alive, though from everything I've heard I bet he's not liking that fact very much right now."

"Yeah," Xander said. "Dawn and I didn't have a whole hell of a lot of patience for his 'I should be dead' routine.' She may have taken the harsh a bit too far when she said she wished he'd died. But at this point I have bigger things to worry about than whether his feelings are hurt. And so does she."

Giles couldn't say anything to that. Andrew hadn't cut and run, and he'd gotten them some much-needed medical supplies, but the former villain's path to redemption wasn't especially high on his list of things to care about that day either. He wished things would be different, but as long as Andrew wasn't in imminent danger of killing himself Giles had to admit Xander was right: There were more important things to worry about at the moment.

"So, point me to a book, Giles. Let's see what we can do to help Willow and Kennedy."

Angel said, "Give me a second. I'll bring out what we still have. Wes, if you could call Fred?"

"Certainly," Wesley said.

Giles looked at the Scythe, then out at the Lobby. Kennedy was still clinging to Willow as though she represented her hope of Heaven; Willow was lovingly stroking the younger woman's hair, showing the tenderness and caring that seemed to be coming out nowhere else.

Dawn was nowhere in sight.

X X X X X

Dawn had better hearing than anyone ever gave her credit for. So, even though it didn't seem like she was listening to the conversation behind the desk, she was.

She appreciated Xander coming to her defense. If they asked her, for Willow, she'd help. If they didn't, she wouldn't volunteer.

She'd lost Buffy. Again. And this time it was forever, and there were no 'bots, no spells, no nothing, that was going to make it better again.

And this time, Spike and Anya had also died. Both of them left a hole in her that would never be filled. All the Potentials -- Amanda, Rona, Vi -- she came to know all of them to some extent. Hell, even Faith's death made her sad.

And then Angel mentioned Andrew.

She felt bad for what she'd said to him yesterday. He hadn't deserved. It wasn't his fault that everyone had died, and yet they were all treating him like it was.

So, while everyone was arguing, she went upstairs and knocked on the door to his room.

"Go away," came a muffled voice from inside.

"Andrew?" she said. "It's Dawn. I want to apologize."

A tromp of footsteps from inside the room, and then the door opened. God, Andrew looked like he'd been drinking for three days. He certainly hadn't slept. "You don't have to apologize," he said. "Because you're right. I don't blame you for wishing I was dead. I should be.

Dawn sighed. "I don't wish you'd died. I wish everyone else had lived."

"If you had the chance to trade my life for Buffy's, would you do it?" he asked. "Don't bother. I know the answer. I know I've never been anyone's favorite person."

"You're not. But you're not dead and I don't wish you were," Dawn said. "That's all I came to say, Except that you might want to eat something at some point. And bathe. You don't have to come out if you don't want to. But Willow and Kennedy are having some kind of trouble. Kennedy's seeing the ghosts of all the Slayers who died." Dawn didn't think Willow's problems were as severe.

Andrew closed his eyes for a second and said, "I'm coming down," he said. "If the Earth-2 Superman can get back up and battle the Anti-Monitor after his whole world had died, I can help the lovely Willow and Kennedy with their problems."

"I wasn't asking.--"

Andrew said, "I know you weren't. Just tell them I'll do what I can." Then he gently shut the door.

For the first time since they'd all looked back at Sunnydale and seen the big hole, Dawn actually felt good about herself.

For at least thirty seconds.

Then reality set back in and she trudged back down to the lobby.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all of these characters and settings, but I'm not Joss Whedon.

Alas.

X X X X X

When Dawn came back downstairs, she seemed to be in a distinctly better mood -- better being a relative term, of course. She stopped over by Willow and Kennedy -- it looked like Kennedy had fallen asleep in Willow's arms, as the witch sat there, speaking soothingly and stroking Kennedy's hair. Giles couldn't hear what Dawn said, but it was brief.

Then she came over to where everyone was setting up to do research and said, "What can I do?"

Xander said, "Dawn, you don't have to --"

"I know. But this is for Willow and Kennedy. I want to." Then she added, "I got Andrew to come down, too. He and I can check online."

Giles was startled. "Andrew?" he said.

"Yes. Be nice. Especially you, Xander."

Xander frowned but said nothing.

"He did everything we asked him to do," Dawn said. "I'm not saying be his best friend. I'm just saying play nice."

Xander said, "Since when are you his best friend?"

"I'm not. But this wasn't his fault. He already feels crappy enough, and what you and I said yesterday didn't help. We're all going to have raging cases of survivor guilt anyway; let's not make them worse."

"Survivor guilt?" Angel asked, bringing over an armload of books. Giles and Wesley picked through the sorcerous ones and handed what looked like a treatise on weaponry to Xander.

Giles said, "Yes. It's an extreme version of remorse felt by those who survived horrible experiences when their friends, loved ones, or fellow soldiers perished. Dawn is right -- we certainly would all fall into that category."

"So that's what Kennedy's feeling right now?" Angel said. "Just -- magically enhanced somehow, like Lorne said?"

"Possibly," Giles said. "It would be silly to speculate before we have all the evidence. Wesley --"

"Yes?"

"Let's you and I go somewhere private -- in case we need to actually cast any spells, we won't disturb anyone."

Wesley looked up at Angel, who nodded. "Fred should be here soon. Go. We can handle this from here Just take any available room. There should be dozens."

Giles picked up the Scythe, and he and Wesley took their leave.

X X X X X

Kennedy might have seemed asleep, Willow noticed, but she wasn't. Not yet.

Maybe sleep would help her. That's why Willow sat here on the couch, letting Kennedy rest her head in her lap. Maybe sleep would chase those ghosts away, at least for the moment.

Willow knew what everyone else was doing was important – they were trying to help her and Kennedy, after all.

But right now, nothing seemed more important than sitting here and holding Kennedy. The woman who loved her. The woman who had risked almost everything – her friends, her life, her sanity – to save her life.

Willow knew that Kennedy was in love with her. It was obvious from almost everything she did – the way she acted, the way she talked. The way she let Willow babble on about magic and "fairy tale crap" even though she had no interest. No – the way she actually tried to _be_ interested.

A while back, Willow had thought they had nothing in common. Kennedy liked Robert Parker and Italian food; Willow, when she read mysteries at all, was an Agatha Christie kind of gal, and preferred Chinese. The only thing it seemed they shared was each other.

But that was before.

They'd shared hell now.

They'd shared the experience of having people they cared about and loved ripped from them in one fell swoop.

Willow had never been sure if she was in love with Kennedy. She knew she loved the woman for the way she made her feel, both the tingly feelings of lust and the fluffy feelings of being loved. But in love?

She still wasn't sure.

But, as she kept stroking her hair, murmuring soothing words to this shattered Slayer, she knew one thing for certain:

She would never, _ever_ let this woman go.

X X X X X

Fred Burkle was in the middle of examining her huge new laboratory – she loved it, loved it loved it _loved it_ – when she got a call from Angel to drop everything and run over to the Hyperion to help with some research, and to bring a laptop.

She only knew a little bit about what was going on over there; she'd run into Lorne on his way into a meeting and he'd given her a two-minute summary.

It had sounded horrible, what had happened down in Sunnydale, really, it had, but she really didn't know why Angel was calling her over. Magic wasn't her field, science was.

Sure, the two had a lot in common at times; mathematical formulae, precise calculations, and she was sure there was a physics behind Wicca that she was planning to figure out if she ever got the chance – but she wasn't the expert.

Still, she supposed she was better at research than Lorne or Charles, and Wesley and Angel will already there, and –

But there was no and there, not anymore, not now that Cordelia was in that coma.

The one thing they'd gotten so far from the doctors and sorcerers looking at Cordelia's case was that she hadn't been herself for quite some time – that Jasmine's influence had been subtle at first but had definitely taken her over so that none of the evil actions were her fault.

Fred was happy to know this, at least.

So she got over there and saw Willow stroking some girl's hair on the couch – she gave a small wave, and Willow waved back without smiling, of course, why would she smile under the circumstances – and Angel and three people she didn't know behind the counter. The other three people were reading books: the two men on magical weaponry, the one girl was reading a book on post-traumatic stress disorder. One of the men had an eyepatch.

"Good," Angel said. "The computer's here. Andrew, Dawn –" the spiky-haired blondish boy and the long-haired brunette looked up – "If you could start looking –"

"Actually," Dawn said, "I'm finding this very helpful right about now. For me and them. Do you mind?"

"Of course not," Angel said. "Fred, I realize that bringing you down here to look things up on the internet is like hiring a professional wrestler to open a mayonnaise jar, but if you would?"

"I'll explain what we're looking for," Andrew said. "And I'll try not to make too many comic book metaphors."

Angel nodded. "Good. I have to go check on the status of our Slayer hunt." At everyone's confused looks, Angel said, "Willow's spell that activated all the Slayers? It worked. We're trying to track them all down and see what we can do."

The man with the eyepatch laughed bitterly. "An evil law firm headed by a vampire trying to find Slayers of evil things and vampires. Even given that I'm buying your good intentions, man, this does not sound like it can end well."

"I agree," Angel said. "If a replacement Watcher's Council ever gets up and running, I'll hand over everything. In the meantime, I'm doing it because no one else is."

While Angel was talking Fred set up the computer and plugged in the DSL line. Andrew came and stood behind her.

"Okay," he said. "We're looking up two things at the moment. One is a magical weapon called The Scythe. It's a unique weapon, like the Spear of Destiny or Thor's hammer –"

"Mjolnir," Fred said. Andrew looked at her, stunned. "I liked comics when I was growing up. You can use all the comic book metaphors you want."

Andrew smiled briefly – it looked like he hadn't been doing that a lot recently – and said, "Cool. Anyway, we found something on it on a website about magical axes – and I don't know why it's called a Scythe and looks like an axe, so don't ask. We'll get to the other one in a bit . . ."

They started searching.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the _Buffy_ and _Angel _characters and settings. I own only the plot and this particular AU.

X X X X X

Wesley had never taken extensive training in spell casting. Watchers were expected to know magic, to know its effects and how to counter them, and how to perform certain rituals on occasion. But Wesley had never really gone beyond that.

Still, for the moment at least, he was the second most experienced person here, not counting Willow, whose opinions were distinctly unreliable, which is why he was here and not hitting the books about the Scythe.

It felt odd to be doing research with Rupert Giles and have Giles treat him as an equal, considering the way their previous relationship had ended. Had circumstances been different, he might have speculated as to why. As it was, he knew why, unfortunately.

At the moment, he was reading through a spellbook, while Giles was trying to contact various higher beings, so far with no luck.

After the third such attempt in about two hours -- in which he'd tried to call the minor god Espada, who was the deity of weaponry in all its forms -- Giles came over and said, "Any luck?"

"I've found the right general section of the correct book," Wesley said. "I'm paging through spells on how to tell the history of an item. So far, though, all the spells I've found either require some incredibly rare ingredient, a human sacrifice, or tell us far more about the object than we'd want to know."

"How so?" Giles asked.

"Imagine someone writing your biography and starting with the first fish to walk on land." Then he handed over the book. "Perhaps you'll have better luck."

Giles took the book from Wesley's hands and began to hurriedly page through it. Wesley, in the meantime, started gathering up the books and the summoning devices, keeping aside one on methods of viewing past events. This one was far better organized, and he was able to locate a couple of basic spells within ten minutes or so. He marked their place in the book and began researching a third when Giles said, "Found it! All we need is five people and a diagram drawn with something green."

"That shouldn't be too hard to locate," Wesley said. "If necessary, we can use a permanent marker. It isn't as though we're going to be back here very often." He looked around. "This is kind of the last hurrah for the Hyperion."

"Yes," Giles said. "I understand you're taking over the local branch of Wolfram & Hart. Are you certain this is the right course of action?"

"No," Wesley said. "But Angel is. And if he turned evil again, rest assured, I'd be the first one to tell you."

"I'm not so much worried about blatant evil as I am in its ability to slowly corrupt," Giles said. "I've seen it happen. With Willow, once upon a time. And Faith."

"I'm not entirely sure what convinced Angel," Wesley said. "I know that the promise of their finest physicians to care for Cordelia has something to do with it."

"Cordelia?" Giles said. "What happened to Cordelia?"

"I guess in all the confusion no one got around to telling you," Wesley said. "While you've been dealing with the first we had to deal with a goddess named Jasmine who wanted to, essentially, enslave the world and make it a paradise. She accomplished this by possessing Cordelia and forcing the poor woman to give birth to her. Cordelia, unfortunately, has been in a coma ever since." He paused. "You do realize I'm only giving you the briefest of summaries. I can tell you at greater length if you'd like, but now really isn't the time."

"No," Giles said. "Damn. While Cordelia and I never completely got along, I always felt she had many admirable qualities. I sincerely hope she recovers fully."

"As do we," Wesley said. "In any event, I have also located a couple of time-viewing spells should we need to see the actual events surrounding what happened in the Hellmouth with the Scythe. I realize you may not want to."

"May not want is far too mild a term," Giles said. "I would sooner watch my own arm being sliced off. Still, if it's necessary, I will do it."

"Shall we go downstairs?"

"Let's."

X X X X X

Andrew looked away from the screen for a moment. The lovely Fred -- beautiful woman and she loved comics, under other circumstances he'd have been in Heaven -- was taking a break, trying to engage Willow in conversation and not having much luck.

But Anya had died in front of him. And the heroic Spike had perished saving the world. And the brave Buffy and the redemption-seeking Faith, so much like Xena --

No. It trivialized Faith to do that. And Faith was not trivial. None of those lovely, wonderful, courageous women were trivial.

They were real, and they were heroes.

And they were dead. They'd died and he was still alive.

He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been tempted just to kill himself over the last day or so. The only thing that kept him from doing it is that he knew his path wasn't done yet. He needed to redeem himself. And no matter whether everyone else around here hated him for living, he had to keep doing it.

But he was grateful to Dawn for making the effort to come up and draw him out. He knew they still blamed him; he still blamed himself. But he appreciated that she was willing to lie to try to make him feel better.

And when he found out that the amazing Kennedy and Willow were in need of assistance, of course he had to put aside his own problems to help.

That's what people searching for redemption did.

And he liked them.

So, anyway, they'd found the original website and had it set aside and now, after Fred had found another one, he was reading up on how magickal weapons of great power could be used as the focal point for spells. He thought he understood it, but he was more of an expert at demonology than actual conjuring. So he called Fred over -- who it turned out was an expert in physics and the sciences.

Between the two of them, using his knowledge of magic and her knowledge of the laws of the way the world worked, they were able to come up with a working theory.

When Giles and Wesley came downstairs, they came over to see what everyone had found. After Xander said, "Sorry, Giles, I got nothing," and Dawn basically shook her head and said that what she was reading would be more useful after it was all over, it was Andrew and Fred's turn.

""Basically," Fred said, "What I think happened in this case is some kind of blowback. Like, the spell was so powerful that even though Willow was done its effects were still being felt throughout the world by all those Potential Slayers y'all were trying to activate. So when they all died at once downstairs part of the spell came rushing back through the Scythe -- where it affected Kennedy -- and back through her to Willow, who was the caster. It's kind of like firing a machine gun at an open doorway through an unbreakable pipe. If someone closes the door the bullets are going to come rocketing back at you. Whoosh."

"But the bullets that are already through," Andrew said, "will keep going."

Wesley nodded. "That would fit with the reports I've been receiving of all the activated Slayers."

"Of course," Fred said, "This is only a theory. You two are the ones who can work the big magic and see whether it's true or not."

Giles said, "Let's get to it, then."


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: We learn part of the truth. The rest comes next chapter.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ universes. I own the plot of this particular AU.

X X X X X

Giles asked Andrew if he was up for helping set up the spell. Andrew was happy to. From somewhere, Angel procured a can of green paint, then asked everyone except Giles, Andrew, Willow and Kennedy to assist in moving the couches so they had enough room to draw the necessary diagram or diagrams on the lobby floor.

Giles explained to Andrew what he needed to do. In the meantime, to avoid disturbing Willow and Kennedy, Angel, Xander and Wesley simply picked up their couch with them on it and moved it so they could see the proceedings. Kennedy, who had fallen asleep, woke up during the move. On balance, this was good. They might need the girl for a second spell.

As Kennedy sat up, she said nothing. Willow watched the proceedings with something resembling interest, but made no effort to volunteer. Had she offered, Giles would have had to find a way to turn her down. At this point, he trusted neither her emotional state nor her magic -- which could have been influenced by what happened with the Scythe.

Andrew finally had the diagram drawn. A cursory inspection showed that he'd done his job well. Not that Giles had expected otherwise, given the boy's talent for summoning. One line drawn incorrectly or incompletely could mean the difference between getting what you wanted and getting disemboweled.

This spell wasn't likely to be nearly that dangerous. It required three casters; he, Wesley and Andrew were the obvious choices. Everyone else he motioned to stand well clear, just in case. He considered and dismissed having Willow and Kennedy move further away. They were likely in no danger, and at this point it was still best to disturb them as little as possible.

He placed the Scythe within the circle. Then he seated himself in the primary position, put Wesley in the secondary one, and Andrew in the third.

Giles then spoke the ritual words; Andrew and Wesley echoed him when necessary. Finally, Giles concluded with "Fiat Indicium!"

The Scythe flashed green for the briefest of moments. Had Giles blinked, he would have missed it.

The next thing he remembered was Xander standing over him asking if he was all right. Dawn and Fred were doing similarly for Andrew and Wesley.

"I'm fine," Giles said. "The information came . . . more quickly than I would have expected. But it's all there." It had come in one concentrated burst. Giles' brain was still sorting it out.

Wesley said as much as he stood up. "We may need a moment or two to process. We received several days' worth of history –"

"Oh, no," Andrew said. Apparently, he'd finished processing first.

"What is it?" Giles said.

"I know what happened." He looked at Fred. "We were close. We just didn't go far enough." He closed his eyes and said, "The Scythe didn't just draw the magic of Willow's mighty spell back into itself. The shock of so many Slayer deaths at once drew _them_ back into it. Their essences –"

"Their souls," Giles said. "Their souls are trapped in the Scythe."

"Not just theirs," Wesley interrupted. "I believe part of Willow's soul ended up there as well."

X X X X X

Willow said, speaking for the first time since he and Giles had come back downstairs, "My soul? No. I still have my soul –"

"You have part of it," Wesley said. This might prove difficult to explain. "But when the magic and all of the Slayer's souls came back into the Scythe, the magic went through it and affected you. Not completely, since they had been weakened by that point. But enough to draw out a portion of your own soul and store it within the Scythe."

"Kind of a rebounding effect," Fred said.

"Exactly. It took enough of your soul, Willow, that your ability to empathize – to care – has been reduced."

"Except for Kennedy," Willow said.

"Except for Kennedy," Wesley confirmed. "Who did not have her soul taken out because she was carrying the focus of the spell when the backfire began. As the fulcrum, in essence, she became mentally linked to the Scythe – explaining why she's been seeing all of the Slayer's spirits. It wasn't guilt. She really _was_ seeing them."

"But I still feel guilty," Kennedy said.

"You would," Dawn said, holding her book up. "It's natural. Remember what Lorne said. Your emotions are being exaggerated by the magic. Not created by it."

"I'll try to remember that," Kennedy said.

After a second, Xander said, "Buffy's soul is trapped in that thing. And Amanda's. And Vi's." Giles nodded. "We have to get them out of there."

"Of course," Angel said. "But what'll happen to them? They have no bodies to get back to and it's not like even with Wolfram & Hart resources I could track down that many Thesulan orbs."

"They should go to wherever they're going," Giles said. "With their bodies gone the souls should move on to the afterlife – and Willow's, return to her body."

"Um," Andrew said. "I'm not sure I like that word 'should.' I think we need to make sure. I think I speak for all of us when I say I don't want the First to regain a foothold – and I want all of those lovely and strong women's souls to go to Heaven, where they belong."

"You're quite right."

"More research, then?" Xander said.

"Actually, this needs to be undertaken by those with magical experience and knowledge. Wesley, Andrew, if you're up for it –" Wesley nodded, and a second later, Andrew did the same. "Fred," Giles said, "If you can spare some time your scientific expertise might also prove useful. The rest of you can relax for a while."

Angel said, "I'm going to actually go drop by the office for a while. Make sure they're all up to date on the new corporate policy of not beheading fired employees." He was actually understating the problem. Beheading would have been a kindness.

Xander said, "Angel, the sun's out."

"They actually have a car that has glass treated so that that's not an issue. Giles, Wes has my number. Call me when you're ready."

Xander and Dawn went outside, saying they were going to get something to eat. Willow and Kennedy continued to sit on the couch, holding each other closely.

The rest of them began studying.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon created the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ characters. This is just my own little AU.

X X X X X

While Angel was at Wolfram & Hart, he filled in Lorne and Gunn on what was going on. Gunn had picked up bits and pieces here and there, but he didn't know everything that was going on.

He didn't bother telling anyone else.

After he'd taken a quick look at the business of the day -- nothing that needed his immediate attention, thank goodness, and no one had gotten their heads lopped off, literally or figuratively -- he got ready to leave.

Lorne and Gunn said they were going to come with him. He figured it couldn't hurt. "Okay," he said, "But I have a stop to make."

It had occurred to Angel that no one from the survivors of Sunnydale had been by the hospital to check in on Robin Wood. He knew he wasn't the ideal person to check in on him; all he knew of him was the bits and pieces he'd picked up from the stories he'd been told in the last day. But better him than no one.

He called the hospital and told them he'd be checking in on Mr. Wood soon. As the hospital worked closely with Wolfram & Hart, this wouldn't be a problem.

"Gonna say hi to Cordy while we're there?" Gunn asked.

"Of course. You two head over to see her. I'll be over as soon as I've filled in Mr. Wood."

Robin Wood, thankfully, was awake. "Do I know you?" he said when Angel entered his hospital room.

After Angel introduced himself and they discussed Wood's injuries, the man said, "It is kind of curious that you're the one dropping by. I would've expected Faith or at least Giles by now."

Damn. He doesn't know. "What do you remember of yesterday?"

"After Giles got me on the bus, not much," Wood said. "I remember the bus being kind of empty, but that's about it. I drifted in and out of consciousness for a while."

"I have some bad news . . ." Angel told him what had happened in Sunnydale.

"They're all dead," he said. "We beat the First, but they're dead." He shook his head. "Damn it all to hell!"

"I know how you feel," Angel said. "At least with Buffy and Faith." Hell, he was even sorry Spike was dead. Not that he'd admit that to anyone.

"I was getting through to her," Wood said. "To Faith. I'd actually convinced her to try a relationship with me. And now --"

"Speaks to the kind of man you are, if you could get through to her like that," Angel said.

"Thanks. Doesn't do me or her a whole hell of a lot of good now, though."

"I guess it doesn't. But I'm glad someone was able to show her she was worthy of that kind of love."

"Yeah. I just wish I'd had more of a chance. She was a fascinating woman."

"Yes, she was," Angel said. Then Wood thanked Angel for telling him and said he wanted to get some sleep.

Angel said goodbye and went down to Cordelia's room.

He just sat there, staring at her, and occasionally praying. The doctors and sorcerers were doing their best, but had nothing to report yet.

After ten minutes, he got a call from Giles. They'd figured out what they needed to do next.

He collected Lorne and Gunn and they headed back to the Hyperion.

When he got there, he got something of a shock. The entire lobby floor had been cleared. The couches were stacked behind the former admissions desk; he couldn't see where the rugs had gone to. Willow and Kennedy were standing up, leaning against the desk. Xander, Dawn and Fred were sitting on the steps.

The diagram drawn into the floor was ten times more intricate than the previous one. The Scythe sat at its dead center. Seven gemstones of various sorts lay on the circle's seven anchor points.

Andrew, Giles and Wesley were walking around it, inspecting it carefully. Giles saw them enter and said, "Step lightly around the edges, please. We need to be absolutely certain of every line."

Lorne said, "Satan himself wouldn't need this kind of welcome mat."

"Satan wants to be summoned," Andrew said. "These souls, we're not so sure of. They may not even have awareness. Plus, there are a lot of them."

"Is there anything you need any of the rest of us to do?" Angel asked.

"Andrew, Wesley and I will be actually casting the spell," Wesley said. "We need four other people to stand at the other four anchor points and chant an Italian phrase when we ask. Xander and Fred have volunteered to be two of them." He smiled. "Dawn volunteered to be a third. I suspect that is the only time I have ever heard five people shout 'no' simultaneously."

"I'm out," Lorne said. "I suspect I don't have the chops for this kind of spell." Angel looked at him. "No soul, by the definition of this dimension, Angelcakes."

"Lorne's correct. Angel, Gunn, would you mind?"

Gunn shrugged. "Sure, but you better make sure you teach us that phrase dead-on. I've got skills but speaking Italian ain't one of them."

Giles said, "Produca le loro anime!"

Gunn and Angel repeated the phrase until Giles was satisfied. A minute later, he positioned everyone. "Are you all ready?" he said. They agreed that they were, and Giles began the spell.

Compared to most of the rituals Angel had seen or been part of, this one was something of a marathon. Giles, Andrew and Wesley each spoke lengthy phrases in Italian, and occasionally Angel, Gunn, Xander and Fred chimed in with "Produca le loro anime!"

After about twenty minutes, the gems began to glow, shooting out light towards the center of the circle, directly above the Scythe.

Finally, they each said, "Produca le loro anime!" one more time, and there was a bright blast of light that temporarily blinded him.

"Everyone," Giles shouted, "Take a step backwards!"

Angel did so, and he heard everyone else doing the same thing.

When his vision cleared --

The circle was full. Over two dozen young women stood inside, if stood was the right word. They were translucent, and they all looked confused. Angel could faintly hear them talking, but he couldn't make out individual voices.

"Good Lord," Giles said.

The only ones Angel recognized were Buffy -- and, even more faintly, directly over the Scythe, a pale image of Willow.

"You were right," Willow said. "I am missing part of my soul."

"They're all there," Kennedy said, stepping forward to the edge of the circle. "All of them. Buffy and Vi and Chao-Ahn and Rona . . . they're all there." She fell to her knees and said, "I'm sorry. . ." and began to cry. The Slayers inside saw this and moved towards her. They couldn't leave the circle, though, and Angel still couldn't hear them.

Then it struck him. "Someone's missing."

Giles said, "My God, Angel. You're right." Xander and Dawn apparently noticed it too.

"I don't get it. Who's missing?" Gunn asked.

Angel said, "Faith. Where the hell is Faith?"


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: I'm kind of glad no one pegged why Faith wasn't in the circle. I hope you like the reason . . .

Disclaimer: I did not create the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ characters. I kind of wish I had, because I'd be rich right now and writing _X-Men._

I did create this particular AU, however.

X X X X X

Giles looked at Wesley. "Wesley," he said. "You said you had some kind of spell set up to check the world for Slayers. Right?"

"If there had been any in or near Sunnydale, I would have already informed you," Wesley said. He'd taken careful pains, in fact. The closest Slayer to Sunnydale had, in fact, been Kennedy herself.

Which still left the mystery of what, precisely, had happened to Faith.

"Maybe we could ask them?" Xander said. "I mean, I don't know how you were planning on freeing them --"

"All we need to do that is remove all of the gemstones from the circle," Giles said. "Then the souls should all go where they were intended to go. As for talking with them -- I'm disturbed by the notion of delaying them any further."

"And if we were making them stick around as cool party favors, then yeah, I'd agree with you," Xander said. "But if Faith is out there somewhere, I'd kind of like to know that."

"And I need to talk to them too," Kennedy said.

What Kennedy needed, Wesley suspected, was to be forgiven.

Angel said, "I can hear them saying things in there -- just not clearly. Any chance this spell's got a volume control?"

Tentatively, Andrew spoke. "If we remove one of the gems, the field should weaken enough for us to be able to hear them better without letting them get away before we find out what we need to know." He looked at Giles and Wesley.

"Giles?" Wesley said. "That sounds like it could work. Otherwise we'd be stuck trying to invent another spell. Which could take far too long."

"Quite right," Giles said. "Good idea, Andrew. Please remove one of the two quartz crystals and we'll see what results."

Andre bent down and gingerly picked up the quartz crystal closest to him.

The voices from the diagram became louder. Wesley could make out their voices.

"We can hear you now," Giles said firmly. "All of you inside the circle."

The muttering became louder before Buffy said, "Quiet!" She walked up to the edge nearest Giles and said, "Okay, why are we here?"

"You were trapped inside the Scythe," Giles said. "All of your souls. We're releasing you."

"I don't feel released yet," Buffy said.

"We have a couple of questions. First and foremost, where's Faith?"

"And I also wanted to say I'm sorry," Kennedy said.

Buffy gave her a look, then said, "Faith, huh? Okay. I'll tell you what happened down there."

X X X X X

When the stairway up through the seal caved in, (Buffy began), some of us began to wig out a little. Me included. I always knew I could die at any time but somehow I still hadn't been expecting it to be today.

I couldn't let them see this, though. ("She was great," Vi said. "I couldn't tell," Rona added." The rest of the Slayers said more or less the same thing.) "Okay," I yelled. "We have to stop them from getting to Spike! Defensive positions!" All the Slayers backed up in a circle around the ruins of the staircase.

From behind me, I heard Faith say, "Um, B?"

"Yeah?"

"Spike's not here anymore."

I killed the Turok-Han I was fighting, moved someone else in to fill my hole in the line, and took a step back.

Where Spike had been fighting off a couple of ubervamps was now buried under a large pile of rocks. "I don't see his body," I said.

"Me neither." I figured he must have been beheaded when part of the roof caved in. I wish I'd had a chance to say goodbye to him.

The first took Spike's form and popped in right in front of me. "Nice try, luv," he said. "You gave it your all. But at this point likely all you'll do is die slower if you keep fighting. Now, me, I'd surrender. Get myself a quicker death. We'll be able to dig our way through eventually anyway." The girls were doing an excellent job of keeping the Turok-Han away from us.

"You're not me," I said. "Look." I could see the amulet's chain; the amulet itself was still under a rock.

Working together, Faith and I shifted it out of the way.

"It's not going to work," the First said. "It needs to be worn by a _Champion."_

"I'm a champion," I said, starting to put it on.

And that's when Faith hit me, hard. The amulet flew free; she grabbed it and put it around her own neck. "So am I." I'd explained to all of them, briefly, what the amulet was supposed to do.

I saw Amanda go down. She wasn't dead, but she was badly injured. Vi moved over to protect her.

As I stood up, she said, "They need you to be their general." She laughed. "Redemption, B. Maybe this'll be that kick that gets my soul into Heaven. If not, I damn sure expect you to be the one leading the charge into Hell to get me out."

"You know it," I said.

Then I moved back to direct the battle. "Fall back!" I yelled. "Protect Faith! No matter what else happens!" Then I started fighting again.

A few minutes later, Faith staggered. A couple more Slayers had gone down. Amanda had died -- but she'd taken three breams with her as she went over the edge.

She moved back as close to the stairway as she could reach. Blue light shot up from the amulet, knocking a hole in the cavern roof. Far above, I could see daylight.

The light became orange.

"B!" Faith yelled.

Then the amulet began shooting rays of light out from the amulet -- hitting all the Turok-Han. They were starting to crumble to dust.

The fighting slowed down and then stopped as the light killed more and more of the ubervamps.

"Did we do good, Buffy?" Rona asked.

"You all did great," I said. "We saved the world."

"Yeah," Vi said. "I guess we did." Then she yelled, "We kick ass!" and started to cheer. After a second, the rest of the girls joined her.

"Ow!" Faith said.

"What?" I asked.

"Damn, if I'd known this was gonna hurt like a sonuvabitch I would've let you do it after all."

I laughed. Faith started to glow. Behind me, the other Slayers were hugging, crying, even smiling.

"I forgive you," I said. "For everything."

"I know," she said. She saw the sour look on my face and she said, "Thanks." Then she started laughing. "Gotta say this much, B. It's been one hell of a ride."

Then she caught on fire and I pulled my hand back. She kept laughing. I watched her disintegrate and then the rest of the ceiling started to fall in.

That's the last thing I remember.

X X X X X

"Until about five minutes ago," Buffy said, "When all of a sudden I was in the lobby of a hotel trapped inside a pentagram with two dozen other Slayers and something that looks kind of like Willow."

"I am Willow," the image said.

"Part of me," Willow said. "The rest of me is kind of out here."

The image smiled but said nothing.

"So the amulet's magic superseded Willow's spell," Wesley said.

Angel said, "Damn. When I didn't see Faith in there -- I was hoping somehow she'd survived." Wesley had as well.

"Nope," Buffy said. "I wish she had, too. Hell, I wish all of us had. But the earth and the First kind of didn't see it that way."

"Buffy," Kennedy said.

"Hey, Kennedy," Buffy said.

"Forgive me."

"Forgive you for what?"

"For not being down there. For not doing the job and getting the Scythe to you. For leaving all of you there to die."

And Buffy said, "No."


	14. Chapter 14

Yeah, you all pegged Buffy's "no." Good job.

Disclaimer: _Buffy_ and _Angel _were created by Joss Whedon. I created only this particular AU.

X X X X X

"No?" Kennedy said. The Slayers behind Buffy were muttering angrily. Everyone else in the room also looked shocked.

"No. I'm not going to forgive you, Kennedy." As Kennedy began to cry once again, Buffy said, "Because you didn't do anything wrong. You don't need to be forgiven."

"But I left you there," Kennedy said. "I left you all down in the Hellmouth. When the building started falling apart all I could think of was getting Willow and getting out of there."

"There were tons of rocks between us and the exit. Superman couldn't have dug us out."

"I should have been down there with you," Kennedy said. "I should have died with you."

"Maybe you didn't get it through your thick skull the first time, Kennedy, so I'll repeat it. What's rule number one of being a Slayer?" Kennedy didn't answer. "What's rule number one?"

"Don't die," Kennedy said softly.

"Don't die. Exactly. You didn't die. There was _nothing_ you could have done. No way you could have saved us. All that would have happened is that you and Willow would have died as well." And Buffy's shade glared at Kennedy. "And rest assured, if you'd let _that_ happen, I don't care what afterlife you would have ended up in, I would have found it and kicked your ass from there to Hell and back again. _You did the right thing, Kennedy_. I'm not going to forgive you because forgiveness is only for people who've made mistakes. You didn't make a mistake."

"I didn't?"

"No. You didn't." She turned to the other Slayers and said, "Would you guys tell her? She doesn't seem to believe me."

Vi came up first. "Kennedy. You did nothing wrong."

Rona was next. "Buffy's right. Nothing that happened was your fault."

Then came Amanda. "You did nothing wrong."

Slayer after Slayer came up to her and told her the same thing. "You did nothing wrong." You did nothing wrong." "You did nothing wrong." "You did nothing wrong."

As she heard this from more and more people, her expression changed. For the first time, hope dawned in her eyes. She was still crying, but it was tears of relief, not anguish.

The pale reflection of Willow was last. "And you did one thing very right, sweetie. You saved me."

"Well," Willow said, "Most of me, anyway."

"Don't be in too much of a rush to get me back," Willow's image said. "You might not like it when that happens."

"Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance," Willow said, ticking them off on her fingers. "I skipped right over the first four. I'd kind of like to not do that."

The image laughed. "Understandable."

Buffy moved back over so she was once again facing Kennedy. "Right now," she said, "You're the 'one girl in all the world.'" She looked over at Giles. "Unless my internal clock is way off and it's been several months since the roof fell in on us?"

Giles looked at his watch and said, "28 hours, all told." The tone in his voice made it clear that he didn't believe this had all happened in that short a time-frame.

From the looks on everyone else's faces, neither did they.

"Good. Now, you've had a day or so of sitting around and I sure as hell don't expect you to be over something like this soon. Any of you," she said, looking around the room. "At least, those of you I recognize."

"Trust me, Buffy," Andrew said, "We won't be." Buffy looked at him and smiled sadly.

"But the world needs a vampire Slayer. And until someone gets around to training those other girls, right now that's you. Trust the voice of experience on this one, Kennedy. Moping about your problems for several months? Not really as much fun as it sounds."

Kennedy said, "I'm going to miss all of you, though."

Rona said, "You'd better." Her words were echoed by all the Slayers.

"Even me?" Buffy asked.

"Okay . . ." Kennedy said. "_Almost_ all of you."

Buffy grinned. "Now that's the Kennedy I came to know and . . . tolerate." Then her face got serious again. "You okay?"

"Of course not," Kennedy said tiredly. "But I think I can get by now without having to have Willow cling to me every second."

"Hey!" Both the Willow and the image said, in unison.

"Not that that doesn't have its appeal," Kennedy said. "Dammit. Part of me still thinks there's something I could have done."

"Part of you probably always will," Dawn said, waving the book around she'd been reading on Post-traumatic stress disorder. "Survivor guilt. As long as most of you realizes otherwise." Dawn walked up to Buffy. "That's something we're all likely to feel from time to time. Like we could have done something."

"You did do something," Vi said, pointing to the Scythe. "You got us out of there."

Giles sad, "Yes, we did, didn't we?"

"Still," Kennedy said. "When I had the Scythe -- I saw all of you."

"It was their souls," Giles said. "Your connection --"

"I get that," Kennedy said. "What I don't get is -- I saw Faith, too."

"Remember, sugar," Lorne said unexpectedly, "I said your emotions were being heightened by whatever was in the Scythe. They weren't pulling them out of the ether. You saw Buffy and the rest of them and your mind filled in the blanks and stuck Faith in there also." Kennedy was slowly nodding her head

Wesley said, "That makes sense."

Lorne tapped his head. "Not just for keeping the horns on, my friend."

Buffy looked around the room. "Thanks. To all of you. Even those I don't know. You got us out of there."

Xander, Angel, Dawn, Giles, Willow, and Wesley came up to say goodbye to everyone. Gunn, Lorne, and Fred hung back. So did Andrew until Buffy told him to come forward.

There were no hugs, of course. But after a few minutes, Giles looked at the Slayers and said, "Are you ready?"

"I think so," Buffy said. The rest of the Slayers agreed. "Oh! Three things!"

"Yes?" Giles asked.

"Find out what happened to Faith. She's not with us. I hope she got where I'm going first, but if she's not --"

"Understood," Giles said. Everyone in the room agreed with that one.

"Second, Willow --"

"Yes?" Both Willow and her image said.

Shaking her head, Buffy said, "No resurrections this time. Four deaths should be enough for anyone."

"I'm not going to make the same mistake twice," Willow said.

The image added, "No matter how much we'll miss you."

"And we will," Xander said. "All of you."

"And third. Kennedy?"

"Yes?"

Buffy said, "I know we didn't get along. But you'll be one hell of a Slayer. I know you don't need the ego boost most of the time."

"Right now, I think I still do," Kennedy said. "But thanks."

Buffy pointed to the Scythe and said, "Make good use of that thing." Then she turned to Giles. "I think we're ready now."

Giles moved around the diagram, picking up the gems one by one.

As he picked up the last one, the Slayers disappeared. Buffy managed to hang on a second longer than everyone else and smiled a Mona Lisa smile as she vanished.

Willow's other half shot forward and entered her body. She took a couple of deep breaths and then began to cry.

Kennedy ran up to her, waving everyone else away.

"They're gone," Willow said through her sobs. "They're really gone."

"I'm here for you," Kennedy whispered, hugging her tightly. "I'm here."


	15. Chapter 15

Author's Note: The most recent reviews, for some reason, seem not to be showing up on the website. I've received three reviews for section 13 and three for section 14. Also, the "Help" section isn't working. Just wanted to let those reviewers know that _I've_ gotten their reviews, even if they're not visible to anyone else. So, to laurasedai, Kaiserangel, Buffybc, J, and Bacafreak (twice), thank you.

Anyway: This is the final section of the story. Yes, I leave room open for a sequel, but I'm done for the moment. If you want a sequel, please tell me.

Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns the _Buffy_ and _Angel_ characters. I own a car, a computer, and a small orange cat. And this particular AU.

X X X X X

Kennedy held Willow until she stopped crying. Still upset, Willow said, "I know what they were talking about now. I thought I understood it when I saw that phantom in the circle, but I didn't, really. Not until it came back."

"Do you want to go upstairs right now?"

Willow shook her head. "No. Alone time's not what I need. Alone time and strong emotions plus me equals badness."

Kennedy hugged her again until she felt a tap on her shoulder. "May I?" she heard Xander's voice say.

"Of course," Kennedy said, and gently released Willow into Xander's arms.

She knew Xander and Willow had a relationship that was much deeper than almost anything on the planet. People had said -- never meaning to hurt Kennedy, though it had hurt -- that Tara had been Willow's soulmate. Kennedy had never doubted it. But Xander was Willow's soulmate, too.

Once, Kennedy had stupidly said she would have liked to seen the evil Willow. Willow had reacted as though Kennedy had said she would have liked to have seen Ted Bundy kill people. Later on, she found out why.

It had taken Tara's death to set Willow on a murderous rampage. It had taken Xander to bring her back.

And, Willow'd said, he was the only person on the planet who could have.

She hoped one day she could reach that level of intimacy with Willow.

Check that. She'd already reached it. She was hopelessly in love with the woman. If she hadn't been before the events of the last day, she would have been. To go through what she went through and still have put Kennedy's own welfare so high -- to be missing part of her soul and still be willing to face down her friends -- that would have done it.

She hoped one day Willow would feel that level of intimacy with her.

She knew Willow cared about her; she knew Willow loved her. But it was unequal.

Not that she was complaining.

Xander let Willow go and passed her back off to Kennedy. She'd stopped crying again.

Kennedy leaned in and kissed her.

After she was done, she said, "_Now_ do you think you're okay to go upstairs?" Willow opened her mouth in protest and Kennedy said, "No one said you had to go alone and I really don't think anyone's going to complain about you missing the cleanup. Part of your soul was gone, sweetie. And honestly, despite the pep-talk and reassurance from the other Slayers, I'm still not 100 myself. Will. You were there for me. Let me be there for you, okay?"

She nodded.

Before they went back to their room, Kennedy went over to the center of the former diagram and picked up the Scythe. No visions assaulted her. "I believe this is mine," she said.

No one argued the point.

X X X X X

Willow let Kennedy take her back up to the room they shared. She sat on the bed while Kennedy fiddled with the Scythe, apparently checking to see if there were any lingering effects of the magic.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Kennedy asked her.

"Like you said, of course not. But you and Xander have gotten me through the worst of it." She pointed to her hair and eyes. "See? No black. No sudden urges to go off by myself and cast evil spells."

"Good," Kennedy said. "Then I won't need to use this." She twirled the Scythe around before leaning it against the wall.

"Like I couldn't stop you if I wanted," Willow said.

Kennedy walked forward, slowly, until she reached the bed. Then she crawled up it until she was on top of Willow, pinning both hands with one of her own, while kissing her.

When they finally stopped to take a breath, Kennedy said, "You didn't stop me."

"I didn't want to," Willow murmured.

"I love you." As Willow opened her mouth – what could she say in response to that – Kennedy put her hand over it. "Relax. You don't have to say it back yet. I wish you could, but I know you can't." She kissed Willow again, quickly. "I just want to be here long enough to have the chance of hearing it someday."

"You saved my life," Willow said. "I'm not letting you go anywhere anytime soon."

"You saved my sanity," was Kennedy's response. "And you're not getting away from me, either."

They kissed for a while longer, but the events of the day still weighed a bit too heavily on them for them to do anything other than hold each other.

Still, for the moment, that was enough.

X X X X X

Lorne, Gunn, and Fred made a gracious exit, heading back to either Wolfram & Hart or home.

Andrew started to gather books to take back to his room. Giles tapped him on the shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"Buffy asked us to find out what happened to the brave Faith," Andrew said.

"And we shall. But not tonight. We have been through an ordeal to end all ordeals. I've barely slept, and none of us have talked to former principal Wood --

"Actually," Angel said, "I stopped off on my way back here and filled him in." Giles looked guilty. "Under the circumstances, Giles, I doubt he'll be holding grudges."

"I hope not. Still one of us should probably go and see him tomorrow."

Xander said, "I'll go." So did Dawn.

Angel said, "Giles, some of those Watchers are going to get here tomorrow. Are you up for meeting with them? If not, I'm sure Wes can cover it."

"I'm up for it," Giles said. "But I would appreciate Wesley's presence as well."

"I wouldn't miss it," Wesley said.

"You can meet here," Angel said. "I understand your wanting to keep the Wolfram & Hart name off of this."

"Thank you," Giles said gratefully. "While I'm still not sure why you chose to 'sleep with the enemy,' as the phrase goes, the events of the last 24 hours have proven to me that you can still be trusted. I am grateful for everything."

"You're welcome," Angel said. "I hope Buffy can find some peace now. I hope they all can."

**Seventeen Days Later:**

An envelope arrived at the offices of Wolfram & Hart. Angel was talking with the former Angel Investigations staffers about their plans for the law firm, and the firm's plans for them, when he ripped the envelope open.

A familiar amulet fell to the floor. A miniature black cyclone came out of it, rustling papers around the room. Quickly, something began to form inside the cyclone – first a skeleton, then the rest of a body.

Angel couldn't see who it was until the wind stopped.

"Aaaaah! Son of a bitch Jesus Christ motherfuck!" the person yelled, almost doubled over in pain. "What the hell just happened to me?"

Wesley said, "Faith?"

Angel said, "Faith."

Harmony stuck her head in the room. "Who the hell are you?"


End file.
